I love StrangerThings. To me, it simply has it all. A slick 80s setting, a stylish, retro soundtrack, undeniably likeable characters, and intriguing sci-fi mystery that even Doctor Who could take notes from. So when I picked up Gwenda Bond’s ‘Suspicious Minds‘ I was hoping for a similarly enjoyable level of sci-fi mystery written on the pages of a book. Needless to say, Bond’s book did not disappoint for the most part. All the preludes to the Netflix series were all well and good, but I appreciated the fact that Bond created a relatively engaging story without relying too much on the source material. I think this is quite a difficult thing to do, since fans of the source material may expect plenty of nods and set up. Luckily though, Bond just about pulls it off without being too pandering. This is a story set in the Stranger Things world, but with new characters, a fresh setting, and enough intrigue in the story to keep you turning the pages.
The story follows a young Terry Ives (Eleven’s mother to fans of the series) as she enters the mysterious world of Hawkins lab, and uncovers dark secrets that would never see the light of day. No matter how intimidating the sinister Dr Martin Brenner and his lab orderlies are, Terry has her loyal friends by her side who she makes at the lab. Alice, the introverted mechanic, Gloria, the quirky yet intelligent comic book nerd, and Ken, a supposed ‘psychic’. The story begins in 1969 (14 years before the first series of Stranger Things) and Bond absorbs the reader into the atmosphere of the time. From old-school American diners where you dip your fries in milkshake, references to the moon landing and The Beatles, to a delightfully ongoing Lord of the Rings metaphor between Terry and her boyfriend Andrew; the story has its fair share of cultural references which sets it apart from the slick, retro 80s setting of the TV series.
I appreciated how the narrative wasn’t entirely from Terry’s perspective. Each chapter is stylised to the title cards of each TV episode, also aptly named ‘chapters’. The story often switches perspectives, giving the reader an idea of how each character is feeling about their predicaments, which keeps the narrative fresh and helps to empathise with each character more. You will also find yourself reading what the characters want to say running parallel to what they actually say, which is an everyday mental habit we’re all guilty of. We even get short but sinister glimpses into the mind of Dr Brenner, how dedicated he is to his research, and what kind of moral and ethical barriers he’s willing to cross to reach his goal. The story also provides some backstory to Kali (known to Brenner as number 8), which is the girl with the illusional powers we meet in season 2 of the show. By doing so, we get an idea of how much Brenner truly disregards human feelings and normal experiences for the sake of scientific ‘research’. Unfortunately, the story doesn’t divulge much into what the purposes of the research is, nor does it explore Brenner’s backstory or true motives, leaving the reader guessing at to what kind of intentions the American government may have with the Hawkins laboratory.
Whilst I would say Suspicious Minds doesn’t quite match the show in terms of its character development and story progression, it is still a recommended read for fans of the show. It takes similar tropes from the show, such as the value of friendship in the face of a mysterious adversary, and makes for an interesting side piece for fans to nibble at. The way the book ends gave me the sense that Bond was attempting to balance two things; an effective backstory to the events of the show, and an intriguing story within its own right. It certainly provides the show with some context, providing what is essentially the closest thing to an Eleven origin story. In terms of a story independent of the show, Bond just about hits the mark. Whilst the new characters she introduces didn’t have quite the development I had hoped, they still had enough for me to care about their fates. Most importantly, I enjoyed how Bond showed how much these characters valued each other’s company and friendship. Topped with a neat little romance, this is what I believe Stranger Things is about to its core – the value of friendship and love. The best way I can sum up Suspicious Minds in a sentence would be – Stranger Things is the main course, whilst Suspicious Minds is a tidy little side dish.
I don’t think the word ‘Viking’ is uttered once in the entirety of The Northman. This appropriately epitomises the authentic Norse feel of the film, as you don’t always need words to convey a feeling in filmmaking. Director Robert Eggers absorbs us in a brutal yet ancient world which runs red with the blood of fathers and sons, overseen by the Norse all-father God Odin. In typical Eggers style, the film blends the real world with the supernatural, using tight cinematography and ominous lighting to create an other-worldly feel to a period of real history. Eggers and Icelandic writer Sjón tell a tale which runs a thin line between valour and vengeance, and how following one’s fate isn’t always as straightforward as it seems. In a world filled with axes, gods, and the threads of fate, good and evil doesn’t exist; it is simply whoever plunges the sword in first.
The Northman follows Viking prince Amleth (Alexander Skarsgård) as he sets off on a path to avenge the death of his father, King Aurvandill (Ethan Hawke). The plot is based on the medieval Scandinavian legend which inspired Shakespeare’s Hamlet, which is very evident in the film’s story and performances. Every member of the cast give Shakespearean-esque performances, expressing raw emotion when needed and blending English with ancient Nordic tongues, which only adds to the other-worldly feel. Skarsgård gives a furious yet empathetic performance as Amleth; providing us with the raw, animalistic rage of a vengeful Viking, but also showing us he’s not completely unrelenting or heartless in the right moments. Anya Taylor-Joy is also a highlight, portraying Amleth’s love interest and Slavic sorceress Olga with supernatural charm, proving yet again her versatility in historical roles. Willem Dafoe was also a pleasant surprise to the cast, playing King Aurvandill’s fool in what would quite possibly be Dafoe’s ideal career if he lived in a Viking world. Ethan Hawke and Claes Bang’s performances as King Aurvandil and Fjölnir respectively also add to the authenticity of the world, and give modern day audiences an idea of how much Vikings valued bloodlines and vengeance.
The Northman also gave us with what is probably my favourite film score of 2022 so far. First-time film composers Robin Carolan and Sebastian Gainsborough experimented with ancient instruments to perfectly capture the scale of the world Amleth journeys through. From the resounding horns expressing the grandeur of Viking Norway and Iceland, to the atonal, sporadic strings conveying that unnerving atmosphere which has become so synonymous with Eggers’ supernatural style. Along with the soundtrack, the immense production design of the film helps capture the essence of the time period. The beautiful Icelandic landscapes make for some stunning cinematography, and the impeccably unclean and rough costume design give us sense of historical authenticity which I have the upmost appreciation for in these types of films. There’s even some sequences of what can only be described as recreations of traditional Viking rituals. Their ridiculousness by today’s standards is compensated by the fact that not many films would go that far in capturing the authenticity of the time. Only in a film like The Northman could a scene of a group of filthy Norse men dancing around a fire pretending to be wolves be so satisfying. The action sequences are slick and bloody as they should be, often consisting of satisfyingly long takes but never too gratuitous. There’s even a game of ‘Knattleikr’ which is like Viking hockey except much more brutal and appropriately violent as it would’ve been back then. As for the film’s supernatural elements, to the casual viewer they may seem slightly jarring at first, but similarly to Eggers’ other films, it elevates the genre just enough to make it unique and interesting. Eggers adds a supernatural element to his films to give modern day audiences a taste of the folklore of the time, and what makes it so effective is how realistically it’s portrayed. It’s never too much that it makes the world feel unrealistic, but never too little that it makes it unbelievable.
The Northman is one of those historical films that transports us back to a time in our world, but a time so long ago that it feels like a different world. It tells a revenge story not unlike others, but one fuelled by Viking rage and sprinkled with Norse mythology. It shows us that even in Viking times, our deeds aren’t always as simple as good and evil, but are better described as a matter of perspective. Amleth is presented as the protagonist, but commits violent atrocities for the sake of valour for his bloodline. Fjölnir is presented as the antagonist, but has moments of genuine sympathy and compassion for those around him. It is a story much like Shakespeare’s tales of old, that of a conflict between compassion for those you love and vengeance for those you hate, and how far one is willing to go to pursue one or the other. The film is long, dark and bloody, so it may not be for everyone, but those who are willing to divulge into some visceral Norse history for two and a half hours may find something special. The historical authenticity and brutal nature of The Northman, topped with the supernatural sprinkles of Norse mythology, makes it undoubtedly my favourite Robert Eggers film so far. It makes me want to pick up and axe and angrily chop up some wood (not bodies) whilst howling like Fenrir the Norse wolf. I’m very much looking forward to the next time period Eggers decides to tackle in a film. I have no doubt he has enough potential to make even the 1990s seem supernatural yet retain their realism. Here’s to a spooky yet sparkly take on PCs and the World Wide Web. Skal!
When Warner Bros announced that they would be making a Harry Potter prequel series based on JK Rowling’s book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, I was ecstatically intrigued. As with most young adults, Harry Potter has a special place in my heart having grown up with the films and the books. It has that childhood nostalgia factor and is the perfect blend of everyday life with fantasy. It is such a unique world to get absorbed in, allowing us to escape to a world much like our own, except wizards, witches and fantastic beasts are real. As such, divulging into the history and the rest of the Wizarding World was a fantastical concept. So far, the Fantastic Beasts films have been received relatively positively. They’ve provided fans with not only a new story, but have explored how the Wizarding World operates in different countries and have made the relationship between wizards and non-wizards evermore complex. Secrets of Dumbledore explores these things further, in addition to fulfilling its titular promise by providing us with, well, secrets of Dumbledore.
The film is set several years after Crimes of Grindelwald, and follows Newt (Eddie Redmayne) and Dumbledore (Jude Law) as they attempt to dampen dark wizard Gelert Grindelwald’s (Mads Mikkelsen) rise to power. It inevitably provides us new creatures, places, and characters which are the film’s main assets. The film also begins to divulge more into the backstories of some familiar Potter characters, such as Dumbledore of course, but also his brother Aberforth. Given that they seem to bringing Dumbledore to the forefront of the story, and given the various other subtle connections the films have been making to their predecessors, I’m sure we can expect to see some tidy set up for Harry Potter by the last Fantastic Beasts film. Since Newt has already published his book by the end of the first film, perhaps we will get a glimpse into what he does with his life between these movies and the Potter movies. In fact, it would be brilliant if one day Warner Bros gave us a TV series about Newt either documenting the beasts before the film in the lead-up to his book, or collecting new beasts after the Fantastic Beasts films have concluded. I have no doubt the final film will have Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s climatic duel which won Dumbledore the elder wand. Perhaps this is the event that will earn him the place of headmaster at Hogwarts, as well as an apt description on a chocolate frog card. Since Secrets of Dumbledore takes place in 1932, and Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s famous duel took place in 1945 (according to the books), perhaps we will get a glimpse at another certain dark wizard in his early years at Hogwarts. The wizard in question of course is Tom Riddle, who according to the books attended Hogwarts between 1938 and 1945, the years that the last two Fantastic Beasts films will likely be set. It would be interesting to see one of the younger Tom Riddle actors from the Harry Potter films reprise their role, and with the amount of connections the Fantastic Beasts films are making, it wouldn’t surprise me if we had at least a cameo.
Whilst I’m thoroughly enjoying exploring the history of the Wizarding World and the relationship between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, I can’t help but feel the films are beginning to lose their ‘Fantastic Beasts’ element. The beasts are almost taking a backseat to the main story, which slightly undermines the name of the franchise. As mentioned before, perhaps one day Warner Bros will quench fans’ thirst for more beasts and create a series or film about Newt collecting the beasts for his book. Nevertheless, each instalment has provided us with new, unique beasts which have played some role in the story, and I have no doubt we can expect to see more in the last two instalments of the franchise. Secrets of Dumbledore has got me looking forward to seeing more wizarding communities around the world, new fantastics beasts, and left me pondering on the fates of the characters in the lead up to the rise of Voldemort.
Vampires have always been one of the most intriguing aspects of supernatural fiction. Ever since Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula, vampires have been one of the foremost aspects of the horror genre. With the rise of superhero comics in the 1960s and 70s, it wasn’t long before the wizards at Marvel created a character which crossed the superhero and vampiric genres together. Enter Morbius: The Living Vampire, who made his first appearance as a Spider-man villain in 1971’s The Amazing Spider-Man #101. The idea of a scientist turning himself into a monster in an attempt to better himself isn’t unfamiliar in fiction, but the character of Michael Morbius places an interesting twist on this. To have Dr Michael Morbius turn himself into a vampiric superhuman attempting to cure a rare blood disease creates an ironic twist which blends the superhero genre with the supernatural. The new Morbius film directed by Daniel Espinosa retells the story of this tragic anti-hero, and whilst it may be not be perfect, it is a unique addition to the plethora of comic book films.
Morbius follows Dr Michael Morbius (Jared Leto), a Nobel prize-winning scientist with a seemingly incurable blood disease which is slowly killing him. In a ditch effort to find a cure, he experiments with bat DNA which leads him to turn himself into a vampiric monster who cannot function without consuming blood. What I enjoyed most about the film was it’s dark, supernatural flavour, which sets it apart from any other Marvel film. In a world where we have a Marvel Cinematic Universe made up of big-budget, family friendly flicks, it was nice to see Marvel do something a little different. From what I’ve read of the original comics, it seems the film was relatively close to the source material in terms of the character’s origins. Michael’s first transformation happens on a ship, as in the comics. He becomes the monster and hunts a group pf unsuspecting mercenaries in what is almost a tense, horror-esque action sequence. Whilst the slow-mo moments in the action sequences were rather slick, the action was generally very shaky and too fast paced to the point where you can’t tell what’s going on. In fact, this almost made me think they only added slow-mo moments so you could tell what was going on!
In terms of its story, Morbius has both pros and cons. In the film, he is a sympathetic figure; you understand why he goes to the lengths to save himself, and you can tell he is a genuinely good man trying to do right by himself and others. He doesn’t want this vampiric curse because of the harm it could cause others, yet he struggles to fight the need to consume human blood. This is exactly what Morbius is about; the classic battle between morality and animalistic nature. That said, it would’ve been good to see more of this conflict between man and beast. As I said, the film makes it clear Michael is a good man, but not much else. We don’t see him kill anyone he wasn’t supposed to, or cause any harm to any loved ones. In fact, he seems to gain control over his condition relatively quickly. In the comics, he is constantly battling the urge to consume human blood, even from those he cares about. Whenever he does, he is in anguish at his actions, condemning himself as a dirty, corrupt soul. Unfortunately we don’t see much of this in the film, as the story focuses more on his conflict with his surrogate brother Milo (Matt Smith). It almost seems that they translated the man/beast conflict between Morbius and Milo, rather than have it be within Morbius himself. Milo is afflicted with the same blood disease as Michael, and when Milo uses the same treatment as Michael, he embraces his lust for blood and new-found superpowers after a life of disability. Matt Smith’s performance as Milo was possibly the most enjoyable aspect of the film, giving a convincingly sympathetic performance as the villain who, unlike Morbius, embraces his vampiric side. Other supporting characters include Michael’s girlfriend Martine, portrayed by Adria Arjona, who provides Michael with the ‘moral compass’ throughout the film, and Jared Harris Dr. Emil Nicholas, Michael and Milo’s father figure. Martine and Dr. Emil aren’t the most memorable of side characters, but they provide us with external observers of Michael and Milo’s predicament, and remind us of the moral ambiguity of their actions.
Morbius is far from a perfect film. The action sequences are choppy, the characters aren’t quite developed as they should be, and the post credit scenes feel like Sony attempting to grasp at straws to connect Morbius with the wider Marvel universe. However, as a stand-alone Marvel film about a character with a sympathetic predicament and supernatural abilities, there is still some enjoyment to be had. This is quite possibly the first Marvel film to verge on the supernatural since the Blade trilogy of the late 90s and early 2000s. This is what sets it apart from other Marvel films. It’s dark, gritty atmosphere and unique supernatural twist on the superhero genre provides a refreshing change to the typical superhero formula we are all too familiar with. The character has had a rough ride through comic history, going through many changes of writers and some periods where it seemed the character was left to lie dormant. As such, it was nice to see such an intriguing character have a shot at a live action feature film, even if it wasn’t quite what fans had hoped for. Hopefully, Sony will listen more to the wishes of fans in future, and give us more of the character’s anti-heroic nature which made him so iconic in the comics.
The polarising nature of Martin Scorsese’s ‘Shutter Island’ left me somewhere between utterly bewildered and undoubtedly mesmerised. I couldn’t decide whether it left me with more questions than answers. The concept of a seemingly sane man gradually going insane in an environment isolated from society isn’t something particularly new in film, so Shutter Island had the job of creating a unique explanation as to how a man could descend into such ‘insanity’. It does so by placing the audience into the perspective of the man himself. It blurs the line between normal and abnormal, sane and insane, almost giving the audience an understanding of what it’s like to lose your mind. It’s not the sort of film you’d watch casually, as it gives you a lot of food for thought. For some, this may be a blessing, to be presented with a film with such powerful, thought-provoking themes. For others, it may be a little too thoughtful, and the ambiguity of its messages may leave audiences utterly bewildered. Regardless of its message however, Shutter Island provides an eerie setting, a stellar cast, and a foreboding soundtrack to create an intriguing psychological thriller about how fragile the human psyche is, and how much untapped potential it holds.
The very setting of Shutter Island immediately creates a sense of disconnect with the rest of the world. Set on an island in a post-WWII world, the film follows US Marshals ‘Teddy’ Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck (Mark Ruffalo) as they travel to the island to investigate the disappearance of a patient from a mental hospital. Chuck’s moderate level-headedness balances well with the intensity of Leo’s Teddy Daniels, as Leo provides an undeniably compelling performance as a man grappling with his past, his unsettling surroundings, and his own mind. Isolating a man who witnessed and partook in the horrors of WWII, along with mental patients who’ve also been separated from society, presages for something disturbing and suspenseful. From the opening scene, the film uses modern classical music to create a heavy sense of foreboding, a feeling that the two marshals are entering something much more profound than they signed up for. The hostile and uncooperative nature of the hospital staff further suggest there is more to the patient’s disappearance than meets the eye, as Teddy seemingly begins to unravel a conspiracy which has him questioning his own mental state. Ben Kingsley portrays the hospital’s lead psychiatrist, Dr John Cawley, in a performance which ranges from reassuringly accommodating to unnervingly unforthcoming. Most of the characters, Cawley included, behave as they normally would in their job roles, but at the same time act as if they are withholding information about the disappearance and the hospital. This conveys a feeling of insecurity, that the situation on the island is not as cut-and-dry as it initially seemed, leaving Teddy to contemplate who to trust and whether or ‘blow the lid off’ a deeper conspiracy.
The film relies substantially on lengthy scenes of dialogue and unsettling dream sequences, primarily revolving around Teddy placing the pieces together between the hospital disappearance and his own past. The lengthy dialogue scenes are one of the reasons I believe the film is not a casual watch, and demands full attention from its audience. Initially, I thought some of the CGI-reliant dream sequences didn’t quite match the tone of the film, but upon reflection I can appreciate the effect they were trying to achieve. They heighten the surreal, dream-like feeling to create a sense of disconnect with reality. They effectively visualise the shocking impact of PTSD, and how those who experience it repeatedly relive the atrocities they experienced in their mind. At first, there seems to be a disconnect between Teddy and the rest of the hospital, as he perceives the patients as merely inmates unworthy of redemption and struggles to cooperate with the hospital staff. As the film progresses however, we are placed into Teddy’s mind as we begin to question whether there there is something more to the interactions with the patients and the staff. We begin to question whether there is a more personal connection between the hospital and Teddy’s past, as the film begins to blend reality with the images of his mind. Subtle changes and small details such as a plaster gradually peeling off a man’s face signify the uncovering of the truth, but also the deterioration of one’s own mental state. As the pieces gradually come together, the film suggests atrocious actions committed by mental patients may not be entirely unjustified.
To its core, Shutter Island is a film epitomising the disconnect between reality and the mind. As its protagonist becomes increasingly determined to uncover the ‘truth’ about his reality, he soon finds that the real truth is within himself. It is a hugely thoughtful film which uses subtle techniques such as lighting and musical cues to create an increasingly suspenseful atmosphere throughout. Providing us with the perspective of a man gradually losing his mind in turn helps us to understand and empathise with the mentally ill. It is not a film for the casual viewer, due to the drawn-out, introspective nature of its story, which certainly takes a reasonable level of thought to process than most films. It does however present its audience with several profound questions. What does it truly mean to be ‘evil’? Is anyone truly worthy of redemption regardless of their crimes? I do appreciate films like this which take their time to build a suspenseful yet engaging atmosphere. Those which utilise the finer details of visual storytelling to show an audience how fragile the human psyche is. It would be interesting to watch this film again knowing its ending, and to pick up on details that may have been missed the first time. That is if I can bring myself to concentrate and engage with it enough as I did the first time.
It’s the early 1960s. The Marvel comics industry has already produced a colourful variety of iconic characters such as Hulk, Thor, Iron Man and Spider-Man, still within the first few years of their creation. Then one day, comic legends Stan Lee, Bill Everett and Jack Kirby decide – “Hey, what if we created a disabled superhero?”. This superhero’s disability would be that he is blind, but his big compensation for this is the fact that his four other senses are heightened to super-human level. Not only that, but his every day alter-ego is a lawyer named Matthew Murdock who fights crime using the legal system. This is juxtaposed to the fact he is a vigilante at night who catches criminals who slip their way through the legal system; because sometimes the law just isn’t enough. This is a man who pushes away his loved ones as he attempts to balance these two lifestyles, a man whose religious faith is ironically reflected by the fact he beats up criminals dressed as the devil. A man with the heroism of Spider-man and the emotional complexity and darkness of Batman. A man who attempts to lift Hell’s Kitchen from its criminal damnation by working both sides of the law. A man who faces loss, abandonment, trauma, and constantly struggles with his identity whilst still defending his city. A man, without fear.
To me, all these things are what make ‘Daredevil‘ one of the most unique and intriguing characters in the Marvel universe. The character resonates with me in a way that not many other characters do. The very concept of a blind superhero was enough to interest me, but his abilities and emotional complexity is what put him on my personal pedestal. Matthew Murdock lost his sight at a very young age when a radioactive substance splashed into his eyes, whilst attempting to save an old man from the truck carrying said substance. Initially, you’d think being blinded is quite possibly one of the most nightmarish experiences a person could go through, considering how much humans rely on their sight. But Matt made it his mission to transform his disability into a strength. A strength that he could later use to commit more acts of heroism like the one that cost him his sight. Not only did he lose his sight, but Matt also lost his boxer father, Jack ‘the devil’ Murdock, who refused to intentionally lose a fight for a mobster. Jack used to encourage Matt to not become a fighter like him, but instead study to become a lawyer or doctor to make the world a better place. Like so many other superheroes have shown, loss is a powerful motivator, and Matt was then motivated to support his father’s wish, but also to bring the criminals who murdered his father to justice. This led to the dual lifestyle that Matt leads as lawyer-by-day and vigilante-by-night. This bipartite personality reflects the different ways of how we choose what the ‘right’ thing to do is. We like to keep our loved ones close as they inspire us to be our best selves, using our knowledge and rationality to defend others and resolve injustices. This is the Matt Murdock in all of us. On the other hand, it is only human to give into our emotional impulses, and resolve injustices by whatever means necessary, even if it sometimes means pushing away our loved ones. In other words, sometimes we simply need to ‘let the devil out‘. This is the Daredevil in all of us.
The world of Daredevil and Matt Murdock is perfectly encapsulated in Netflix’s Daredevil series. This is the series which first absorbed me into the character and his world. The series opens with its protagonist sitting in a confession box admitting he needs to ‘let the devil out’, setting up for something which will blur the line between right and wrong. What separates this series from other Marvel TV shows and movies is its perceptiveness and grit. It isn’t afraid to explore deeper themes and make flawed characters likeable. Its reliance on dark, grainy cinematography to encapsulate a much darker comic book story rather than overusing CGI makes it much more grounded and real than most other Marvel properties. Season 1 isn’t just a superhero show – it’s a 13-episode character drama about how far protagonists and antagonists are willing to push the moral boundaries to do what they believe is ‘right’. Charlie Cox’s performance as Matt Murdock is possibly my favourite portrayal of a comic book character; he is to Daredevil what Robert Downey Jr was to Iron Man. He brings likability and emotional complexity to a flawed character, similarly to the antagonist of the series, Wilson Fisk, portrayed by Vincent D’Onofrio. Fisk does unspeakable things throughout the series, but still manages to provoke feelings of empathy and understanding with the audience. He is intimidating, anxious, calculating, and somehow empathetic all in one. He doesn’t need superpowers or weapons to show his power. Simply by displaying the effect he has on people and what he makes them do for him before he even appears on screen is enough to show how much of an unstoppable force he is, and how he truly lives up to his comic book alias, ‘The Kingpin’.
Whilst some argue season 2 of the series wavers in its objective quality, upon several re-watches I have come to appreciate the thought and depth placed into its story arcs. The first few episodes centre around one of Marvel’s most compelling and morally ambiguous villains – the Punisher. Once again, Jon Bernthal to me is the Punisher like Robert Downey Jr is Iron Man. He is a man to be feared by criminal organisations yet the series isn’t afraid to show his more emotional, familial side. Should we simply kill criminals so they don’t commit their unspeakable crimes again? Or does every criminal, no matter how terrible their crimes, deserve a chance at redemption? This intriguing dilemma is discussed in depth between Daredevil and Punisher, showing two different perspectives on the idea of vigilantism yet showing how similar these two characters are. As the Punisher says to Daredevil – ‘You’re one bad day away from being me.’ That is what makes these characters some of the most compelling in the Marvel universe. The parallels drawn between them throughout the series show how easy it would be for Daredevil to kill and turn into those he fights so hard to defend Hell’s Kitchen from. Season 2 also crafts a story about what it means to live two different lives, as Matt struggles to maintain his day life as an attorney with his night life as the man without fear. He pushes his two closest friends away, Foggy Nelson and Karen Page, trying to balance the demands of the Punisher’s trial as Matt Murdock and the fight as Daredevil with a secret organisation known as The Hand. He forms romantic connections with Karen as Matt Murdock, and with assassin Elektra as Daredevil, epitomising the struggle of which life is best to lead. The more absorbed he becomes in one, the more it infects the other. Season 2 creates believable conflict between those who call each other friends, and understanding between those who call each other enemies. It encapsulates the dichotomy of right and wrong, and how many different approaches there are to achieve what an individual believes is the ‘right’ thing to do to protect others.
My cosplay of Daredevil’s first vigilante outfit from season 1 of the Netflix show
As if the first two seasons weren’t enough to fulfil even the Devil’s appetite, Netflix and Marvel provided us with a third (and possibly final) season of Daredevil. Season 3 effectively uses what made season 1 great and adds refreshing new dynamics to Matt’s defence of Hell’s Kitchen. A broken, beaten Matt seemingly has abandoned his everyday life as an attorney and fully embraced his vigilante persona. Not only this, but the Kingpin of Crime, Wilson Fisk, has returned to the Kitchen and proves that house arrest is far from enough to keep his atrocious criminal schemes at bay. Season 3 also provides us with an intriguing portrayal of one of Marvel’s most underrated villains, Bullseye. Season 3 turns what was originally another costumed assassin who can turn any object into a deadly projectile into a compelling yet terrifying antagonist for Matt Murdock. Bullseye, or known in the series as Poindexter (Wilson Bethel) is an unhinged FBI agent whose childhood abandonment and unresolved psychopathy leads him to become a tool of Fisk’s to incriminate Daredevil with the very crimes Fisk is guilty of. Not only does this parallel Matt’s own abandonment issues from his mother, but it provides us with yet another antagonist who has understandable motives yet atrociously goes about fulfilling them. Similarly to D’Onofrio’s Fisk, he is a villain whose actions you do not condone, yet with a character skilfully crafted to provide an understanding of why he is like he is. The impending clash between Daredevil, Fisk, and Bullseye occurs in one of the most climactic series finales I’ve ever seen. Will Bullseye kill Fisk’s wife Vanessa before Daredevil can save her? Will Daredevil cross the line and kill Fisk? Charlie Cox provides an award-worthy performance as he cries out in pain when the opportunity to kill his adversary arises but he can’t bring himself to do it. What makes the protagonist of Netflix’s series a hero is not Daredevil, but Matt Murdock. As Fisk urges Matt to kill him, Matt exclaims “You don’t get to destroy who I am“. If Matt kills Fisk, Fisk wins. Daredevil becomes a hero by maintaining the integrity of his humanity, by choosing not what is easy, but what is right. I could probably write pages and pages more about why Netflix’s Daredevil is one of the best series of the 2010s. About the stunning comic-book inspired cinematography, the intense, dark soundtrack by John Paesano, and the performance of every actor. But it’s a series you should simply watch for yourself, because I believe it is a series that every comic book fan should experience and could learn from.
Netflix’s masterful series inspired me to indulge in other Daredevil media and explore the world of Matt Murdock further. Comic book writers and artists have provided us with some of the most stunningly drawn and compelling tales in the Marvel universe. Kevin Smith’s Guardian Devil storyline not only provided the basis for the 2003 feature film, but also became one of my favourite comic book stories to date. An infant is mysteriously placed into the care of Matt Murdock, which is revealed to be either the Messiah or the Antichrist, leaving Matt to struggle with his faith in Catholicism and how it weighs on his sense of morality. The story isn’t afraid to deal with themes like substance abuse, suicide, and religious faith. I couldn’t talk about Daredevil comics without mentioning the main man who made the character what he is today, Frank Miller. Miller took Lee and Everett’s creation and placed him into much more real-world scenarios, and immersed him in darker themes and conflicts which readers could resonate and empathise with. Miller’s Born Again story arc is regarded as one of the greatest and most influential Daredevil storylines. Having discovered Daredevil’s secret identity, the Kingpin is hell-bent on bringing down Matt Murdock in every way he can, leaving Matt to pick himself up and find the willpower to pursue his adversary. With its uniquely religious symbolism and struggles with identity, Born Again provided much of the inspiration for seasons 2 and 3 of the Netflix series. Even the criticised 2003 feature film starring Ben Affleck I find enjoyment from. It may have some toe-curling cheesiness, but I appreciated its performances, tone, faithfulness to the comics, and of course those underground-early 2000s Matrix vibes which most comic book films tended to have back then.
Whatever media is used to portray the story of Matt Murdock, whether it be film, TV, or graphic novel, I have come to appreciate him as one of the most interesting and unique characters in the Marvel universe. The way he turns his disability into effectively his greatest assets is awe-inspiring, and shows that irrespective of potential disadvantages, you can still stand up for what you care about. I recently read Travis Langley’s book, ‘Daredevil Psychology: The Devil You Know‘ which explored the complexity of the character and his powers using psychological literature. As Langley writes in his final essay of the book, “Life’s balancing act lasts as long as we do“, which I believe encompasses what makes Daredevil so compelling. The character epitomises the dichotomy of life and morality; lawyer by day, vigilante by night; working both inside and outside the system. Do we indulge in our emotions or keep ourselves level-headed? It shows how things aren’t always as simple as right or wrong or good versus evil. Daredevil taught me things about myself which I wouldn’t have even considered before, and provided me with a reason to express my passion and resonation with the world of comic books and TV. But most importantly, the character taught me to always have faith, no matter the odds. It’s fair to say Daredevil is my favourite comic book character of all time.
Another cosplay of me as Matt Murdock himself, in a world where he decided to grow out his hair (Photos by Jacob McCormack)
Ever since the dawn of cinema, filmmakers have continually utilised the power of using ‘the’ in their film titles. Especially in horror, films such as The Shining, The Thing, The Exorcist, The Birds, all use ‘The’ in their titles to creating an ominous feeling of dread; something that overshadows everything and incites fear of the subject in the title. A simple but effective technique which director Matt Reeves uses in his new take on Batman. This film encompasses the title of ‘The Batman‘ by creating a dark, gritty Gotham city in which there lurks a force to be reckoned with. A force whose past trauma has led him to practically abandon his every day life and dedicate himself to a symbol. A symbol which targets Gotham’s corrupt and strikes fear into the hearts of criminals. This symbol is – The Batman.
Everything about this film encompasses what it means to be Batman. From Michael Giacchino’s chilling yet epic new Batman theme, to the stunning wide shots of Gotham’s skyline at dawn. The film provides not only a fresh take on the caped crusader himself, but also the storyline and world he is placed in. In The Batman, the titular character must follow a murderous trail left by the Riddler whilst becoming entangled with a variety of other characters such as Selina Kyle and ‘Penguin’. The Gotham City in The Batman felt more dirty and unkept than any other iteration so far, which is exactly the type of setting such dark characters would believably spawn from. It feels like a city run by it’s criminals who are haunted by a vengeful vigilante known only as ‘The Batman’. The scene in which you first see Batman himself genuinely felt like something out of a horror film. The way the camera shots linger when he is on screen and the colours of the scene around him only add to his intimidation and how he is truly perceived as a monster by criminals. Interestingly, the film focuses on Bruce Wayne’s fractured psyche, as Reeves practically abandons Bruce Wayne’s playboy billionaire persona and instead presents a more unnerving, unhinged Batman, and a much more antisocial, reclusive Bruce Wayne. Both Robert Pattinson’s Batman and Bruce Wayne are men of few words, mostly keeping their human interactions minimal as they learn to traverse their way through Gotham’s criminal underbelly. Even Wayne Manor looks more like Dracula’s castle than the abode of a playboy billionaire, and I appreciated one moment in particular which showed how Bruce Wayne doesn’t tend to go out during the day.
The film also shows off an excellent variety of supporting characters. Every scene with Paul Dano’s Riddler was chilling, and left the cinema in absolute silence. Dano effectively managed to balance the unnerving campiness of the classic Batman villain whilst adding an almost serial killer eeriness. This really suited not only the setting of the film, but also gave a realistic portrayal of the characters as if he was a real person in the 21st century. Zoë Kravitz’s Selina Kyle was also a blend of the classic character with a realistically updated portrayal. She almost acted as Batman’s darker side (as if he could even have one), more at the mercy of her base impulses yet rooted from similar trauma to the caped crusader himself. As such, her relationship with Batman was one of the most intriguing aspects of the film; going from two self-serving individuals who happen to cross paths to two people whose shared trauma and reclusiveness naturally draw them towards each other. The other supporting cast members only helped to encapsulate the unclean feeling of Gotham City in the film. Jeffery Wright’s Jim Gordon makes you feel as if he has the entire weight of the Gotham police on his shoulders. He is constantly being told not to associate with the vigilante, yet he still knows full well that the Batman may be the only one capable of stopping the Riddler. Colin Farrell’s portrayal of Penguin was also more of a realistic mobster than the classic bird-brained villain. The use of prosthetics to make Colin Farrell almost unrecognisable made the character look like a real mobster who would plague the criminal underworld, which I really appreciated.
DC comics have really struggled to find their footing in cinema over the past decade. The company went from creating an extended universe of films to standalone films as we started to lose count of how many times we’d seen Bruce Wayne’s parents get shot on screen. Nonetheless, it is good to see such an iconic character receive the modern day treatment he deserves. I understand this iteration of the character may not be for everyone, since the film is quite slow and deliberate with a 3-hour runtime. On the other hand, in a world full of face-paced, energetic superhero films, it’s nice to have something which takes its time and has clear thought put into its characters and plot. The Batman reminded me a lot of the final season of Marvel’s Daredevil series. It shows how loss and trauma manifests itself into vigilantism; how a man can take every possible measure to overcome it and prevent anyone else from having the same experience. By doing this, they may isolate from society and become dedicated to an ideal bigger than themselves; which is reflected not only in the Batman, but in the Riddler too. The Batman is a classic comic book tale of one man fighting not only a battle against crime, but a battle within himself. The film left me very hopeful at the prospect of seeing more of Pattinson’s Batman in Reeves’s gritty iteration of Gotham City.
The official trailer for Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness sets the stakes for something of truly epic proportion. Everything from the ominous soundtrack to the stunning visuals of mysterious new worlds suggests we’re in for an outing that has never been seen before in the cinematic history of Marvel. Beginning with Strange waking from a nightmare of a decrepit Sanctum Sanctorum on a desolate plain immediately sets the tone for something of apocalyptic proportion. With Sam Raimi taking directorial reigns, Multiverse of Madness has the potential to push the traditional genre of a Marvel film, incorporating elements of horror which could prove to be an ominously refreshing turning point for the MCU. The trailer also contains some of the most beautiful yet terrifying imagery ever seen in a Marvel trailer; with one shot of Strange fragmented into square pieces as he crashes through a world with dinosaurs in the background… This truly sets the scale for something which will push the boundaries of a typical Marvel film.
The trailer suggests the film will involve the repercussions Strange must face after the events of Wandavision, Loki, and Spider-Man: No Way Home, all of which gave Marvel fans a taste of the Multiverse. It’s great to see Elizabeth Olsen returning in her full Scarlett Witch get-up, although her appraisal of Strange’s attempts to control the chaos of the multiverse doesn’t seem too positive, as she so calmly yet menacingly delivers the line “You break the rules and become a hero, I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn’t seem fair.“. Perhaps this means she will be fully embracing her Scarlett Witch persona and play a more antagonistic role in the film. The trailer contains several other appearances from returning MCU characters such as fan favourite Wong, Strange’s love interest Christine, and it seems we will finally be getting a pay off for the post-credits scene of the first Doctor Strange film with the return of Mordo. However, possibly the most intriguing aspects of the trailer are the hints it drops to the appearance of some very unexpected faces. Hearing Patrick Stuart’s voice immediately gave me chills as it was the last thing I expected to be in a Doctor Strange trailer. The possibility of Stuart reprising his role as Professor Xavier from 20th Century Fox’s X-Men films suggests the scale of Multiverse of Madness will be as a certain Sorcerer Supreme once said, ‘Hitherto Undreamt of‘. If that wasn’t enough, another substantial speculation surrounding the trailer is that the illuminated costumed figure fighting Wanda could be a variant of one of the MCU’s other heroes; the big theory being that Tom Cruise will be playing a variant Iron Man from another universe. We will have to wait until the film’s released to have any of this speculation confirmed, but given the number of surprise appearances from returning characters in Spider-Man: No Way Home, we can certainly expect there to be some surprises as Strange traverses the multiverse. Speaking of variants, it seems there will be several alternate variants of Doctor Strange himself appearing in the film. The first being a very sly, evil looking Strange which Marvel fans may recognise from Marvel’s animated What if? series. The other Strange variant which appears at the end of the trailer definitely hinges on the borders of horror. If a monstrous, dark, demonic looking version of Strange is enough to make Wong let out a terrified scream, then you know Sam Raimi will quite possibly be treating us to the closest thing to an MCU horror film to date. The trailer’s mysterious visuals and hints of returning characters leaving us to merely speculate only adds to the hype for the film. Whatever the speculation may be, one thing is for sure – we’re in for a plethora of surprises as the multiverse unravels in what could be one of Marvel’s craziest cinematic experiences yet.
When it comes to the 21st century revival of Doctor Who, many regard the run of Russell T. Davies as executive producer, showrunner and head writer as the show’s ‘golden age’. His run lasted from 2005 to 2010; kicking off the revival series with the introduction of Christopher Eccleston’s incarnation of the Doctor in ‘Rose’, and ending with the triumphant two-part closing story for David Tennant’s Doctor in ‘The End of Time’. Whilst this era of Doctor Who is regarded by many as the golden age due to Tennant’s iconic performance, it was Davies’s tight plotting, unique storylines, and emotional payoff which also contributed to the memorability of this era. Davies not only brought us some of the greatest Doctor Who episodes of the past two decades, but also some of the most memorable series finales. I remember first watching the series 4 finale, ‘Journey’s End’, and feeling the emotional satisfaction of all of the Doctor’s companions in the TARDIS tow the Earth back to its rightful place in the universe. Whilst the production values, special effects, and portrayal of each Doctor since Davies’s departure has maintained resonation with loyal audiences, the writing and stories themselves have generated mixed reactions. Many of the stories by Steven Moffat or Chris Chibnall have been regarded as loosely plotted, enigmatic, and constructed using bewildering parallel-running plot lines, with characters sometimes dying and then being mystifyingly revived. Both my dad (who has watched Doctor Who since the very first episode in 1963) and I often struggled keeping up with what was going on in the era that straddled late Matt Smith and Peter Capaldi! This is another aspect of Davies’s initial run which made it so memorable – it could be appreciated by older returning fans to the series whilst bringing enjoyment to a new generation. Being such a substantial part of British pop culture, it would be extremely fulfilling to see Doctor Who given a fresh but familiar coat of paint; bringing audiences of multiple generations together rather than generating mixed reactions.
So what can we expect from Davies’ return as showrunner? Personally, I hope he brings back his unique style of tightly plotting each episode; providing each with its own unique storyline whilst maintaining a concurrent theme throughout the series to keep viewers hooked. With the Flux seemingly resolved at the end of series 13, hopefully the forthcoming episodes will provide more insight into this mysterious character so far referred to as ‘time’, and the purpose of the fob watch the Doctor obtained. Is it an intriguing coincidence that this fob watch is reminiscent of the watch seen in the series 3 episode ‘Human Nature’ when the tenth Doctor is forced to become human (executively produced by Davies)? Since series 13 told one continuous story over six episodes, perhaps Doctor Who will return to its self-contained episodic stories, whilst alluding to the mystery surrounding ‘time’ and the fob watch throughout. With references to a wider diversity of sexuality in the series with Yazmin (Mandip Gill), it would also be interesting to see this explored further. Davies has very effectively explored same-sex relationships in a thought-provoking way in his other work, so perhaps we can expect this to be handled compellingly and with sensitivity in series 14 of Doctor Who. If the previous Davies era is anything to go by, I believe we’re in for some unique, episodic adventures which will climax in a classic Davies series finale resolving the mysteries set up by the previous series. New Doctor, new writer, high stakes – let’s keep our fingers crossed for a triumphant return of what made Davies’s rejuvenation of this British icon memorable.
In 2019’s The Lighthouse, director and writer Robert Eggers shows how little is required to create an intriguing and effective film. I use the word ‘effective’ because I believe a film can still be good without being effective. For example, if you watch a film at the cinema for a good time, you can come out having enjoyed it and acknowledged its objectively good qualities. For a film to be effective, however, it has to make you feel something. To leave you thinking, or in some cases, inspired. Many films attempt to achieve this by trying to be clever, and perhaps sometimes a little too clever. Films which try to be too clever lose their effectiveness, because they often leave audiences not knowing what to think. The Lighthouse is an effective movie because it has objectively good qualities, such as the performances from Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson, and it doesn’t try to be too clever. Yet it leaves you thinking about its core themes and potentially what makes or breaks a man.
Set in the 1890s, the film follows Dafoe and Pattinson’s characters as lighthouse keepers off the coast of New England. One of the most striking and unique aspects of the film is that its entirely in black and white, and filmed on a 1:19.1 aspect ratio (which merely fills the screen to a square like many of the earliest films ever made). Not only does this encapsulate the dark and gritty feeling of the time period, but also creates an underlying claustrophobic feeling throughout the whole film. The whole world for these two men becomes the lighthouse, each other, and as Dafoe’s character frequently puts it, ‘the rock’. I wouldn’t call myself a particularly informed film enthusiast who knows what every technical term under the sun means, but I can appreciate the effect of simple things like lighting and shot composition has on an audience. The Lighthouse shows how simply getting the right facial expression with the appropriate lighting can instil feelings of terror and discomfort in a viewer. It is simple things like this that prove filmmaking is indeed a form of artistry; creating images and sounds for viewers to experience and provoke various emotions.
As mentioned before, one of the best aspects of this film are the performances of Dafoe and Pattinson. Quite possibly career highlights. This is mainly because of the simplicity of the characters and the situation they’re placed in, so a lot of the intrigue of the film relies on the performance of the actors. Dafoe plays Thomas Wake, the older, more experienced lighthouse keeper who has been on ‘the rock’ for clearly too many years. Pattinson however plays the much younger Ephraim Winslow, slightly begrudged at being placed on a rock having bounced from job to job for a while. The way these two characters bounce off one another makes most of the film; sometimes like two lifelong brothers having a good time, and sometimes like two insane people locked in a basement. The emotional range that these characters display really helps to credit Dafoe and Pattinson as two of the best at their craft. One may go from giving a powerful monologue about the sea and touching upon some Greek mythology, and the other simply responds with a snarky remark – both remain believably within their characters. This was another pleasant surprise about the film – it was strangely funny in all the right places. Again, this has a lot to do with how well Dafoe and Pattinson interact with each other. I never knew a film with such an ambiguous range of genres could somehow include fart jokes and still make them work.
There was several days between me watching The Lighthouse and writing this blog, simply because I needed to gather my thoughts on this film and write them down coherently. This is the type of film that really leaves you thinking, and very much makes you question your own sanity when watching it just as the characters do. To its core, the most haunting aspect of this movie is that it depicts what happens to two men if you strip them of society. It explores a power struggle; both between the two men and within themselves. What would you do if you were stranded on an island with a stranger? Would you go insane? Would you make the most of it? It’s one of those morally ambiguous situations which we don’t quite know what we’d do unless we were actually placed in it. The Lighthouse explores this, and pushes the emotional and moral boundaries of what it means to be human. This film really reminded me of The Shining, the way it prolongs uncomfortable scenes, its unique use of sound, and of course the way it hauntingly lingers on the effects of ‘cabin fever’ (there was one scene in particular which I thought was directly inspired by The Shining). Films like the The Lighthouse are the reason I love films and writing about them. As much as I love big blockbuster franchises, films like this provide something different to keep us thinking, and provoke emotional responses and interpretations like no other film does. I love being able to appreciate such a diverse range of cinema; from big budget franchises to lower budget, stand-alone, thought-provoking films such as this. The Lighthouse is a terrific reminder that cinema is an art form. It reminds us of the emotional impact of colour, images, and sounds, and the way they are put together can give each viewer a unique interpretation.
G does Films 